Daughter of Benik [Chapter 1 - part 2]

Irene
sat under a cherry tree. It was mid-May, the
cherry blossoms have long faded leaving nothing but the green leaves in its
branches. She stared blankly at the scene around her. This was her favourite
place amongst all places. The gentle breeze, the blue sky often patched with
fluffy clouds reminded her of her home back in Canada. Tears began to stream
down the side of her face as she remembered the wonderful times she had back
there. How she missed everyone – her parents, her sister, and her friends. She
leaned back against the trees as she recalled another incident that occurred
almost last year...

It
was a snowy day in January, the fifteenth of January – her birthday. She was
waiting in the public library at downtown for Greg. He told her that he had
something to give her. She was waiting for nearly an hour. Still Greg did not
come. He was never the type to be this late for a date, she began to be
worried. Standing up from the table she sat at she decided to leave. Maybe he
had forgotten that it was her birthday today. She left the library and made her
way to cross the street.

“Irene!”
She heard a voice call out to her. She turned to see Greg waving across the
street.

The
traffic was just changing as pedestrians made their way across the street.
Blinded by excitement, he ran across the street, not seeing a car make a sharp
turn; nor did the driver see him darting in front of the vehicle. Irene froze
in horror as she watched her boyfriend get hit. She hid her face in hope that
it was a dream she could wake up, but found it too real. Seeing him tumble to
the ground burned in her mind. Fearfully, she removed her hands from her face
finding him still there in the street, the car stopped, people crowding around
him.

“Greg!”
she called him as she made her way through the crowd. There he lay on the
pavement painfully opening his eyes. He looked up to see who called him. Irene
fell to her knees and tried to lift him into her arms.

“You
shouldn’t do that, Miss,” said a man, who knelt beside Greg. “He may have
broken something.”

“Irene,”
Greg said to her softly noticing the frightened look on her face.

Irene
hushed him. “You shouldn’t talk,” she told him trying to be brave, yet the
tears began to fall from her eyes.

Weakly
Greg reached up and lovingly stroked her face. With the other hand he held up a
golden box that was crushed from the impact. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he
apologized.

Irene
shook her head. “Don’t worry about that,” she sniffed. “We got to get you to a
hospital.” She clasped onto both his hands as she tried to hide her tears. She
did not hear the people asking what happened or whether someone called an
ambulance.

“Irene,
don’t cry,” Greg told her gently.

“I
can’t help it, Silly!” she told him, “I can’t help being worried about you.”
Tears fell on his face. His golden hair, now soiled with mud and black snow,
made him look different, but his blue eyes were as bright as ever – as if he
knew something she didn’t.

“I
love you...Irene...Happy...birthday...” his voice faded as he closed his eyes
with a smile.

Irene
shook her head in horror. Still holding his hand she called his name, though in
her heart she knew he had left the world.

“Hey,
poo-head!” called a voice.

Irene’s
mind flashed back to the present. Quickly wiping her tears from her face she
looked up. A bunch of girls from the senior classes surrounded her.

“Hey,
look. Diarrhea-hair is crying,” said one of the students.

“Oh, poor girl! Did you miss your home?”
mocked another student.

Just walk away, Irene turned to leave.
Suddenly felt her head snap back as something grabbed her by her hair.

“Hey!
I’m talking to you!” the student dug her fingers in to Irene’s shoulders.

“Let
go!” Irene began to fight, but there were more of them and they were stronger.

“Let’s
see if these foreign girls have big boobs as they suggest in those magazines,”
someone suggested. Hands reached out tearing at her clothes. Irene violently
struggled and kicked around blindly. She felt something make contact with her
foot and a yelp of pain.

“That
bitch!” an injured voice ground out.

Run! Now! She dashed, forcing her legs
to carry her home. She ran through the school grounds, past some bicycles
leaning against the bike racks. She saw an old bike leaning against a post she
grabbed it and jumped on.

“After
her!” She pedaled off the school property, hearing shouts behind her she took a
left towards a cluster of bamboo growing on a steep hill. She rode onto a path that
cut through the tall bamboo. In a few minutes a cry and a loud crash came from
there.

About
half an hour later, Irene slowly made her way home covered in bruises and scrapes.
Hot tears splashed down her cheeks, though she was in pain from taking a
violent tumble on the bicycle, it was how the students at her school treated
that hurt her the most.

“I’m
home,” she muttered as she entered the house.

“You’re
back,” said her great-aunt as she appeared from the kitchen busily wiping her hands.
“Let’s have tea together. I’ve just bought us some green tea cake, the kind you
like with the chocolate – Airi-chan, what happened to you?”

“It’s
nothing, Aunty,” Irene smiled, tugging at her gaping blouse attempting to hide
the missing buttons, but did not look at her aunt. “I just slipped and fell off
a friend’s bike on the way home from school.” Irene continued as she removed
her shoes.

“Airi-chan,
is something wrong?”

“I’m
– I’m fine, Aunty, I just need to wash up that’s all,” Irene said quietly as
she made her way to her room.

After
a warm shower, Irene came out of her room in her favourite jeans and shirt.

At
the dining area, her aunt poured the green tea into teacups, as thin as
eggshells, and served the green tea cake with chocolate frosting. She served
her own portion and sat across from Irene.

Irene
took a bite of the cake and sipped her tea. She appreciated the comforting
presence her great-aunt provided. No questions asked, just there in silence as
if she understood how Irene felt; a peaceful silence that Irene did not want to
break with her sob story.

“Ah,
yes! I have something for you.” The older woman reached into her pocket and
brought out a small wooden box.

Irene
took the box. “What is it?”

“Try
to open it,” she smiled.

Irene
tried to open the lid, but it did not move. She tried to twist it this way and
that – still nothing happened.

“Is
this a puzzle box?” Irene asked.

The
woman smiled. “It is.”

Irene
studied the box, she carefully felt its side and found a small latch nearly
hidden from the naked eye. She lifted it and the lid opened. In the box,
nestled in a satin cloth of wine red, was clear blue gemstone the size of a
clam-shell. The stone, attached to a chain of gold, was cut and polished to
look like a scallop shell.

“I
meant to give this to you on your twentieth birthday, but I see that now is the
time.”

Irene
held up the stone by its chain and let the sunlight dance through its facets.

“This
stone belonged to one of your ancestors, given to me by your grandmother Rose.”
Aunty began, “We had a family union once. You were about eight then. Your
father’s parents and your mother’s parents met at Canada one summer. Your
father’s father asked me to come for this occasion, so I did. We have shared
stories of our heritage, I was fascinated with some of the stories I have
heard. Then Rose gave this to your father before us all.

“She
said that she knows it is strange to give this to him at a time like this, but if
something suddenly happened to anyone of us leaving someone with either you or
your sister, then we are to give one of you this stone. Rose explained that
this stone belonged to a white man who called himself Benik, which was passed
down to his children and grandchildren. It was said that the stone was
something Benik had received from his parents when something terrible happened
to them. Anyway, it was the only thing that was brought and kept from the world
Benik came from. I was told that he was the son of a chieftain, perhaps a king
– I am not sure which. However, by how Rose had kept it I know that it is
something of value.”

Irene
looked up and noticed a somewhat sad look on her great-aunt’s face. “The moment
I noticed the mark on your forehead I knew that Ishual had chose you for his
purpose. Now the time has come.”

“Aunty,
who is Ishual?” Irene asked.

“Ishual
created this world and a sister world called Ditté. He’s – how would I put it?
He is the ruler of time, space, and other worlds. He is the one who set the
laws of nature to run its course as it is meant to be.”

“Have
you met him?”

“Once,
when I was three, I was lost in a field during the summer festival and he met
me there. He later brought me home safely.”

Irene
sat and pondered her aunt’s words.

Irene’s
aunt reached over and held her hand. “Irene-chan,” she said gently as a mother
would to her child, “Have you met Ishual?”

Irene
looked at her aunt. “I think I have, I’m not sure. How do you know it’s him?”

The
old woman smiled knowingly. “You just do.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Irene
rose early the next morning after her great-aunt woke her. As Irene washed up
and left for school, her feet suddenly felt like lead the moment they passed
the front gates.

I don’t want to go to school, her heart
groaned. Perhaps if I move fast enough
and avoid meeting them I will be safe. So she took a route that was
different from usual.

For
fifteen minutes nothing happened. The usual people, neighbours, businessmen,
children, all made their way to their daily destination. By the time she saw
the school gates her heart sank. They were there, five of them waiting for her.

Irene
closed her eyes. Should she skip school today? Perhaps take the back way to
school? She remembered the bamboo forest and sprinted towards it. She climbed
the steep hill.

“Whatcha
doin’, poo-head?” she overheard someone calling after her. She kept running.
Hands grabbed her and began to drag her.

“Where
shall we take her?” someone asked.

“How
about tying her up here?” Within moments, Irene found herself brought to a
clearing in the woods. In the middle of the clearing was an old well with its
roof gone from age and only poles that once held the roof was still standing.
Someone brought out a pair of toy handcuffs and shackled her to an old pole
standing at the well.

“Hey,
let’s make her look nice!” someone suggested. One of the girls brought a
covered coffee can. She opened it and threw something at Irene.

Seeing
centipedes, worms and other bugs showered over her, Irene screamed trying to swat
all of them off her body.

“Hey,
look! She’s dancing!” Another girl shouted and they all laughed.

Once
the bug fell from her Irene scrambled onto the edge of the well away from the
creepy crawlies. Suddenly, she felt herself in the air. Her wrist gave a
painful jerk, the handcuff around her left wrist kept her from falling into the
well.

The
girls leaned in over the edge. Then, the chain snapped and Irene fell down,
down, down, down…

The
moment the girls saw Irene disappear into the well, colour drained from their
faces.

“She
fell!” one of them said.

“It
wasn’t our fault! She did it!”

“Let’s
get out of here!”

By
the time the school bell rang, all sat at their seats in class – all except
Irene.

“Has
anyone seen Solomon?” the teacher asked.

The
girls looked at each other. Silently swearing to each other never to breathe a
word about what just happened.

She
began to rub her wrist wondering why her wrist felt sore and felt something
encircle her injured wrist. Then the memories rushed back. Immediately she
jumped up examining her clothes for any other bugs. Seeing none, she sighed.
Feeling something cool touch her chest she looked. It was the pendant her great-aunt
had given her.

As
she examined her surroundings, Irene saw a grove of moss-covered trees. Moss
and lichen clung from the trees, like rags hanging from skeletons. She
shuddered. What is this place? Seeing a pale blue moon appearing in the
sky with a large ruby red star at its right and an emerald star at its left she
knew she was not on Earth. Is this a dream?

“Nooo!”
cried a voice of a child.

Irene
started, wondered where the cry came from. Not far from where she stood, she
saw two children standing with their backs against one of the gnarled trees,
before them stood a huge figure clad in black armour.

One
of children, a girl, cringed behind her brother. The boy picked up a rock and
flung it at the man, only to his dismay did it land on the ground harmlessly.

“Go
away!” screamed the girl, trying to be as courageous as her brother.

The
figure speedily drew his sword and swung it at the helpless duo.

“Nooo!”
Irene cried as she clutched the stone hanging from her neck. A sudden surge of
strength and courage flowed through her body. The stone glowed brightly and let
out a bright light as it transformed into a magnificent sword.

The
black armour turned, the blood red eyes under his helmet grew as he saw
a strange girl leaping from the trees and attacking him with the Sword of
Light. Then, he saw a magnificent figure right beside her. He a high pitched
screech came from within the helmet, setting the children’s teeth on edge.

In
an arch of light, Irene swung. The helmet rolled, empty suit of armour collapsed
with a loud clatter and crash.

Seeing
the danger gone, Irene turned to the children. They stared back in awe at the
scene. She looked at the sword. It glowed and quickly shrank into the stone it
was with the chain still attached to it.

She
approached the children, as she placed the stone into her pocket, she knelt to
their height and asked gently, “Are you all right?”

The
two children could only look at her with huge eyes, which made them look like a
pair of owls.

“Are
you Ishual?” asked the girl.

Irene
blinked at this. “Ishual? No, I’m just a stranger here,” she said with a smile.

“Oh,”
said the girl in disappointment.

“My
name is Pine, this is Caleah. Thank you for saving us.” The boy smiled with
appreciation.

“Where
are your parents?” asked Irene.

“They
live not far from here,” said Caleah, “Would you like to come with us?”

Irene
hesitated for a second, but then she thought that perhaps they would help her
find out why she was in that world. “May I?” she asked politely.

“Please
do!” said Pine, overjoyed at the response, “Mamma would be happy to have
company,”

The
two children each took Irene’s hand and led her out of the grove.

* * * * * * * * * *

Planet: Ditté

Year: 1630,
about forty years after the overthrow of the Ephesus II Dynasty.

Place: The
village of Terrona, on the Island of Vennik, one of the Islands of Arunea.

Dalel
carried a basket of food to the fields where her husband and her two sons
practiced their fencing. The sun was bright and warm as it brightened the green
fields on the island. She smiled as she thought of the time when she first came
to the island as a shy little girl. After the hardships of rebuilding a life,
things were promising; their farm prospering as well as the business they were
making in trade. She was always thankful that many supported them through their
difficult start. Now as a mother of two handsome and healthy boys, she did not
know what more to ask for.

Amon
sprang from the ground as he attempted to make a crack at his brother with his
rod. His brother quickly moved from where he stood, making Amon trip and
lightly tapped his forehead.

“Are
you trying to kill me?” he asked, giving Amon a dirty look.

“You
always beat me in points, Aryn!” whined Amon, “That one was not called for!”

Their
father laughed heartily that the sight. “I just hope you boys are mature enough
to deal this like men – not savages.”

Just
as Amon got up Dalel stepped into the scene.

“Your
dinner’s here!” Dalel announced producing the basket of goods she prepared for
her family.

Aryn
turned to flash his mother an impressed smile. Amon gave him a sharp slap
across the head.

“Hey!”
Aryn glared at his brother.

Amon
grinned mischievously. Dalel stepped between the boys and handed them each an
apple to settle the matter. As a mother, she did not like it when her boys
bickered at each other.

“Let
us thank the High King,” their father, Illac, announced.

They
looked up and sang an old song that was sung in thanks for the food. After the
song ended, they all settled down to eat.

“I
have noticed that you have learned ways of fooling your opponent,” said their
mother good-naturedly.

“You
should have seen the move Aryn showed, Mother. He moves so fast that I’ve added
more bruises from yesterday,” Amon grinned. Although his brother beat him in
fencing, he was still proud of him.

“Well,
I found him learning to trip and attack me more than last time,” Aryn added
humorously.

“Probably
to pay back all the bruises you’ve given him these past few days,” Illac joked
with them.

“I
would appreciate it more if you would court with a young lady, Aryn. It would
be nice to have a girl to help me with the chores around the house,” Dalel
mentioned.

“Maybe
Aryn could dress up as a girl and help you around the house, Mother. That way I
could catch up with my fencing skills,” Amon piped up.

“That
would be a problem. I am too masculine for my form to fit into Mother’s
dresses,” Aryn pointed out, implying his mother’s petite form in comparison to
his height and masculine build.

“Well,
it would be nice to have a girl around here, although there is no need to think
of it now.” Dalel sighed, still silently wishing for a daughter.

“Mother,
I could go and find myself a girl. Maybe not now....” Aryn said in hope to
bring his mother’s spirits up.

Dalel
smiled and patted her eldest son’s face fondly. “Thank you, but there is no
need to rush.”

Aryn
looked shyly at her and said, “Well, actually, I was recently beginning to
think of going out into the world and gain some experience.”

“In
what? Courting?” Amon asked jokingly.

“Yes,
and no,” Aryn answered. “I do want to find a wife soon – though not for now.
But I want to go somewhere outside of this island and discover the world.”

This
was something Dalel feared. “No! Absolutely not! You shall not leave this
place. If you plan on travelling around this island you may, but leaving it I
will not let you!”

Silence
filled the whole place at Dalel’s sudden reaction.

“Come
now, Dalel. Aryn is not going to a dangerous place. He just wants to experience
adventure –” Illac tried to calm his wife, but knew it may take some time until
she settled down.

“We
have gone through this before, Illac. Last week, he has told me the same thing!
I cannot let my son go to Korda,” Dalel explained.

Illac
stared at his son grimly. “Where did you hear about Korda, Aryn?” he asked, his
voice low

Aryn
swallowed. He sensed his father’s anger coming like a thunderstorm. “Two weeks
ago when I was talking to Wynn during an errand,” Aryn answered quietly. Though
he was twenty, he still feared his own father’s anger. “Father, I’m sorry if you
don’t want me to go. But remember the time when you gave me the ring on my
tenth birthday? You told me that there will come a time when the High King will
call you on a journey you will have to take. The High King had laid it in my
heart to go to Korda.”

“How
do you know if it is the High King?” Illac asked.

“I
know this desire is from the High King. The moment I heard about Korda I felt
this desire to go.”

Illac
looked at his son and saw the determined look on his face. He sighed. Like
himself, he knew his son was stubborn in taking risks and actions like these.
“Let me tell you something about Korda, Aryn,” Illac began.

“Before
I married your mother, I came from a royal family. My father – your grandfather
– was a king who ruled Korda wisely and well. Your grandfather, King Ephesus
II, was a servant of the High King himself. Yet, there came a time when he made
a costly mistake. Your grandfather’s father – your great-grandfather, Ephesus I
– died before your grandfather became king. There had been a rumour that
Ephesus I’s prime minister, Malduke, put poison in his wine goblet one evening.
Yet, your grandfather did not want to believe it because Malduke was good to
him. It was several years later that Malduke’s plan was revealed.

“I
was seven at the time. I remember it being the darkest day of my life. Ephesus
II was at war against an army called the Order of Beliar, an army made by a
band of evil magic artists. Your grandmother, Queen Ishi, received news that
the king was slain in battle by Malduke. The messenger said that the royal
family must flee to safety, before the Order reaches the castle. Queen Ishi had
everyone in the castle dressed as peasants. She had us three children divided
to the king’s most trusted and faithful friends. My sister, Princess Enka was
handed to the royal bodyguard, Lord Bhodar. My brother, Prince Benik, was
handed to our nurse Merri. As for me, I was handed to our tutor, Professor
Garian. Before we parted, the queen handed each of us an item we are to hold
close to us. Enka was given a garnet bracelet called Blood Stone. There was a
legend that the stone was formed from the blood of Ishual – the son of High
King – when he was killed. Benik was given a stone pendant he named Wind Voice.
He gave the stone the name for its clear blue colour that reminded him of the
wind and the sea. I was given the ring that I gave you on your birthday.”

Aryn
looked at the ring he had on his finger.

“That
ring,” Illac said, pointing to its bright green gem, “is called Hope Spring. I
named it after a small spring we had not far from our palace, where we had
wonderful times during the days of peace.”

Aryn
looked at his father and noticed him appearing as if he had aged ten years more
by remembering his past.

“We
all left the castle, through secret passage ways and different routes. We did
this so if one group were attacked the others would be safe. All who fled from
that place hoped to leave the kingdom safely. Professor Garian took me to the harbor
to leave the kingdom and come to this island for safety. Ever since I have left
that place in fear I vowed to myself that I would return to help those who were
unable to escape. Yet, as time flew, life was difficult for a start here and
after I have married your mother and had you boys, I did not want to think of
the place again. Too many sad memories.” Illac looked down sadly as he let out
a deep sigh.

“My
son, if the High King called you on this journey – then go. Whatever the
reason, the High King may have a purpose for you there, perhaps to help those
who are lost.” Illac then turned to his wife, “You know too well, my dear. Once
the High King calls, there is no way we could stop him. For as the creator and
the ruler of this world and many others, he makes sure his plan is established
– even if dangers and risks must be taken.”

Dalel
sadly looked at Aryn and nodded. “I understand,” she said quietly, as if
speaking to the High King himself.

Get link

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Google+

Email

Popular posts from this blog

Jerna panted as she dragged her injured
leg across the desert sand. A few more
paces, she told herself, a few more
paces and there will be shelter. From under her hood she peered at the
cracked cistern located about five meters away. The desert sky stretched above
her grey with promises of a sandstorm. Using her staff to pull her closer to
her destination, Jerna tried to ignore her throbbing foot. Wind began to pick
up sand as she concentrated on the cistern. Finally reaching the cistern, she peered
inside to see if any desert creatures had fallen in. Seeing none, she produced
a rope from her pack and securely tied one end around a metal support that
protruded from the cistern wall. With great caution, she lowered herself into
the cistern and waited for the storm to pass. In the dim light, Jerna examined the wound
on her ankle. The skin was torn and broken from one of the briers. Although the
wound was not contaminated, she wondered why there was so much pain. Opening
her water skin, sh…

In the middle of the night, Jerna felt her
throat parched. Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, she tried to swallow.
She got up, seeing only darkness, she felt around for her pack in search of her
water skin. A hand grabbed her wrist. She froze. “What are you looking for?” asked a gentle
voice. Jerna realized that her rescuer was still there. “My water,” her voice raspy with thirst. He fell silent for a moment. “You lost
your water in the lake.” “What time is it?” She wondered how long
she had slept as unease crept within her. “It’s morning, can you not see the sun?” Jerna did not know if she had heard him
right. “What did you just say?” “I said, it’s morning.” She waved her hand in front of her face,
then, looked about her. Nothing. She could not see. She covered her mouth as
she felt a lump form in her throat. Why?
How did this happen? What about the cure? “Jerna, do you want some water?” he asked
quietly. Suddenly, she felt him envelope her with
his body. Something pounded in the ground…

Jerna had a dream. She was very small and
her grandmother was still alive. They were sitting near the fire. “When
the chief god left his people, they thought that he had left them to die.
Because of this, they felt that there was no purpose to live. They also believe
that the chief god sent the disease as punishment. So, in hope to appease him
sacrifices were made by letting animals run into the desert. However, there was
another story that was not known to many people.” Just when her grandmother was about to
give the second story, Jerna woke up. She closed her hand over the coin around
her neck. It felt heavier than it usually was. She sat up and looked at her
surroundings. She remembered that she was in a cave she had found just outside
the desert the night before. She opened her pack for some breakfast. She ate
chewing each small bite carefully so she could taste every last morsel. She
took a sip of water from her water skin. For a moment, she stared at the ground
before her. Without …